The Walking Dead-Survivor Chronicles
by TOkun92
Summary: Chronicles of various survivors in The Walking Dead Universe.
1. Jake

**The Walking Dead:**** Survivor Chronicles**

**Jake**

Jake walked in the forest, avoiding any Walkers and people. His grey backpack weighed considerably on his back, but compared to the pain and guilt he had about his baby brother, it was nothing. It had been one month since he killed him; he could still hear the Walkers pounding at the door, slowly tearing it apart. They would have gotten in eventually, it was only a matter of minutes.

Jake removed the bottle of water he had in the bottle carrier of the bag, taking small sips; he needed to conserve his water. He had scrounged so many supplies; canned foods, medicine, ammo; everything but water. He wanted only to get someplace where he could be alone, where he could die the lonely, miserable death he deserved.

Jake placed his hand on his pistol. A Walker was about twenty feet away. A young girl, perhaps a few years younger than him. He drew his gun and his knife, walking to the corpse as calmly as he was. The creep spotted him, and began walking. It limped, it's left ankle being twisted in the wrong direction. When he was seven feet away, Jake felt someone push him to the ground from behind, making him drop his weapons.

The attacker punched him in the back of the head, and ripped off his bag. Jake could hear him running away. The Walker lunged at him, catching the young man off guard. It tried to bite at him, but it's jaw was dislocated, preventing it from doing any harm.

Jake reached for one of his weapons, and found his knife. He stabbed the dead woman in the back of the head, killing it. He pushed the corpse off him, and got to his feet. He looked at the ground; he could see the footprints of his attacker in the dirt. He grabbed his gun, and chased after him.

Jake soon caught up to his attacker, a young man in his late teens, jumping and grabbing the bag, knocking him off balance. Jake ripped the bag off him, throwing to the side. He proceeded to beat him with his bare hands; he needed to kill this person, this thief. He couldn't let him live. And besides, he needed to kill something, it might as well be his attacker.

Jake threw the man into a tree, knocking him to the ground. He pulled out his knife, but was tackled by someone. This man was maybe in his late forties, early fifties. He punched Jake in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He had a hard punch. '

Jake stabbed the old man in the stomach, then retracted the blade and forced it back in. Five times he did this. The old man collapsed to the ground, dying from his wounds. He bled heavily, and Jake knew he was going to die. Nothing could save him.

Jake turned back to the teen, who tried backing away while on the ground, but was blocked by the tree. Jake drew his gun; he didn't want to prolong this. He aimed the gun him, about to pull the trigger, when a crying came from his right. He turned his head to find a young child, at most only five years old, running to the teen.

"Please don't hurt big brother!" the child cried, digging his face into his older brother's chest. "Please!"  
"Please!" the older brother said, "I'm sorry, just leave him alone! Please! Don't hurt my little brother!"

Jake kept his pistol aimed at the teen, then slowly lowered it, putting it back in it's holster. He didn't expect this. He looked at the dying old, who breathed weak breaths. He could see a resemblence in him and the brothers; he must have been their father. He looked back at the brothers, who lay crying on the tree. Jake could hear the older brother whispering. "_Don't look at him! Don't look!"_

Jake turned around and walked to his bag. He picked it up, putting it back on his back. He took a few steps before he stopped. He turned to look at the brothers; they had made their way over to their father, who was now dead, his chest not rising in the slightest. The two cried for their parent.

Jake let the bag drop from his back. He walked over to the brothers. They didn't know. He could tell. They didn't know their father would come back, that he would attack them, kill them the moment he awoke. He drew his pistol once more, and aimed it at the dead man. He fired a shot into his head, preventing him from coming back.

The brothers jumped from the sudden bang. The older brother shielded the younger brother, protecting him from Jake, who holstered his pistol once more. "You come back no matter what," Jake told him, still looking at the old man. He then looked at the brothers. "I'm sorry."  
Jake walked off, leaving the brothers and the bag. He had gone through a lot to get those supplies, killed a lot of Walkers, nearly died several times. He didn't want it anymore. He didn't deserve it. He walked the path he was walking before, now with much more weight on his shoulders.


	2. Ashley

_I know I haven't updated my other stories in months, but now that my semester's over, I promise I'll get to writing.  
I hope you all enjoy these Survivor Chronicles I am writing; I figure writing these will help get the creative juices flowing. _

* * *

**The Walking Dead:**** Survivor Chronicles**

**Ashley**

Ashley walked the lonely street, holding her engorged stomach; she was nine months pregnant, and her baby would come soon. A few days at best. She had found out months before that it was going to be a boy. She thought back to her husband, who had left for a business trip in Atlanta before the dead came back. He never came back. She didn't know if he was alive, dead, or worse. All she had to remember by was her baby bag, which he had bought as a present for her and the baby. He had supplied it with everything; diapers, wipes, baby formula, pacifiers, the works.  
Before the apocalypse, she had been a doctor; a surgeon in fact. She was one of the gifted ones, able to remove a bullet from a man without much risk. She had done that just four months prior, to a cop who had been shop in the line of duty. She couldn't recall his name, but knew he had a wife and son. She remembered his partner dropping off some flowers for him on her last day. She had taken a CAT scan of his brain that same day, and noticed some increased brain activity; she was gonna tell the partner and the family, but was afraid of getting their hopes up.

But none of that mattered now. That man was probably dead. If she was right, he would have woken up about a month later, maybe two, but by then the dead came back to life. There was no doubt in her mind that the defenseless man was killed, either by the monsters or the military.

Ashley felt her stomach churn. She hadn't eaten or drank anything in five days, and she was getting weaker by the moment. The baby bag had no food or water, only baby stuff. She couldn't let her baby starve.

As she walked, she saw something in the distance. She focused her eyes, and realized it was a car. She quickened her pace. Reaching the car, she realized that it was empty, but it was still on. She checked the gas gauge, seeing the car was running on empty. No wonder it was abandoned. Ashley popped the button for the trunk, hoping there would food or water inside. When she opened it, she saw the most horrific site.

There in the trunk was a young woman, tied up and beaten. She had fresh cuts and bruises all over her face, her mouth was taped shut, and she was naked from the waist down. Ashley cried silently, both out of fear and out of pity for the girl. Whoever owned this car, she didn't want to be around when they came back.

She turned to run away, but stopped. She looked at the unconscious woman; she was still alive, and although she was hurt badly, she didn't look like she had suffered any fatal blows. Ashley looked around the area, seeing and hearing no one. She went to the woman in the trunk, trying to remove her bonds. Rope kept her bound, and she tried to untie her wrists, but was finding it hard to do so. Whoever tied these ropes did a good job.

The woman woke up slowly from her touching her, and she looked at Ashley weakly. She was startled at first, and began to struggle. "_Hold still, I'm here to help,_" she whispered. The woman didn't calm down, and began trying to scream. "_I'm trying to help you! Now be quiet!"_

"Goddamn it!" Ashley heard someone yell. She panicked, looking at the direction of the voice. Two men were walking in the woods, one of them looking incredibly angry, the other one looking at the other with a cold, eerily calm face. "We almost had him! How'd we lose him?!"  
Ashley ran away, heading for the other side of the forest; she didn't want to be found by these men, not if they were the ones who had the girl in the trunk. She hid behind a tree, breathing as quietly as she could. She couldn't run through the woods, the men would catch her. She had to wait for them to leave. She felt guilty for leaving the girl, but figured better her and than both of them.

"What the hell?" she heard a different voice, probably the stoic one's, say. "Did you leave this open?" Ashley froze in terror; she forgot to close the trunk.  
"No!" the angry one yelled. "Shut up!" Ashley heard a loud smack, which she assumed was the man hitting the girl in the trunk.  
"Then who did?" Ashley felt her stomach wrench in pain; no this couldn't happen, not now. Not now of all times! She could water coming from she. Her water broke! THE BABY WAS COMING!

"Is someone there?" she heard a cold voice say, clearly enjoying himself. "Don't worry, we won't hurt you. This girl is a bad person; she tried to steal from us. I swear."  
She kept quiet until a contraction hit her, and she whimpered in pain. "Over there!" the angry one yelled. She ran, her position being found. She ran as fast as she could, into the forest.

Ashley heard one of them give chase. Another contraction hit her, and Ashley fell in pain. One of the men grabbed her, and she grabbed his genitals, squeezing them as hard as she could, making the man let go in pain. She ran again, her contractions getting closer and closer together.  
"GET BACK HERE, YOU BITCH!" the man yelled. "WHEN I CATCH YOU, I'M GONNA MAKE YOU SCREAM!"  
Ashley stopped as she felt the baby coming out. A bang filled the air next, and she then felt something ripping through her chest. She fell to the ground. She could feel blood coming out of her chest. "Got you!" the man said happily. He kicked her, forcing her onto her back. "Well, well, well, looks like you're about to have a baby!"  
"Please," Ashley begged, weakly. "Don't hurt my baby!" The man, who she now saw had a small, scruffy beard, kicked her hard in the face, hitting her into a tree. She could feel her baby coming out, until she finally heard the cry of the newborn.  
"Looks like I'm gonna have some fun with you, little fella." The man bent down to pick up the baby. Ashley cried weakly for her baby, having lost too much blood to even move. She feared what would happen to her baby, imagining the horrible life he would have.  
As the man was about to pick up the baby, Ashley heard another shot. The man fell to the dirt, screaming in pain. Ashley wondered where the shot came from, hoping to god it was from a friendly person, a good person. A few seconds later, she saw a young man in his twenties, looking at the man who was about to take her baby. He aimed a gun at him, firing one more shot into the pervert, ceasing his cries of pain, killing him.

The young man then looked at Ashley. He bent down, ripping open her blouse, inspecting her wound. He lowered his head, knowing she would die from her wound. A rustling to the left caught the young man's attention. He aimed his gun and began firing off several shots. She could hear growls, the growls of the monsters that had plagued the world. The gun clicked, having no more rounds in it. The young man swore, and looked at Ashley.

The young man bent down, taking the baby in his hands. He took a knife out of it's sheath, and cut the cord connecting the baby and it's mother. The young man held the cord shut, apparently knowing that if the cord wasn't closed, then the baby would probably bleed out. He stood up, looking at the woman again, then back to the baby.

"Adam!" Ashley breathed out weakly, using the last of her strength to name her son. "Adam." It was the name her and her husband had chosen for their child. She had to name her child.

The young man looked at her again, then back to the baby. "Adam," he repeated. He bent down once more, taking the baby bag Ashley had with her. As the young man turned to run, he stopped. He looked behind him. Ashley could the snarling and groans of the undead monsters coming from that direction. The young man bent over the dead, scruffy bearded man, picking up the man's gun, a rifle. He stood up, holding the gun in one hand, Adam in the other. He aimed the gun at Ashley. She thanked him silently; she didn't want to suffer any more than she had to. She didn't want her life being taken away by rapist and a murderer.

Ashley breathed her last breath, then heard a shot.

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_I hope you enjoyed Ashley's story. I'm sure you all think we're never gonna see her again. And you're right. Please leave a comment/review._


	3. Noah

_I'm liking this series.  
_

* * *

**The Walking Dead:**** Survivor Chronicles**

**Noah**

Noah sat on the floor, chewing on a piece of old gum. The taste had left it weeks ago, but he needed something to calm his nerves. Ordinarily he would light up a cigarette and smoke, but he didn't have any; it had been six weeks since his last smoke, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

Noah read an old medical text book; his studies had always been the most important thing to him, and now it was all he had left. His father and mother always wanted him to become a doctor, like them, and he aimed to please them, to meet their expectation, to surpass them. It was hard, but nothing in life ever was.

His parents worked at the CDC, being geniuses in their respective fields. They were to work with doctor Candace Jenner, a world renowned virologist, and together they would have found a cure for this plague. But it wasn't to be. Noah traveled for weeks to reach the CDC, avoiding The Plagued as best he could. But when he got there, the place was gone.

He knew what happened, his parents told him about it before. In case of complete power failure, the CDC was designed to self-destruct, incinerating every living things inside. This was done in case of a terrorist attack, or some other catastrophic event. The CDC held all of the world's most dangerous bacterias and viruses; just one vial of anything in there could, no, _would_, kill hundreds of thousands of people in a matter of weeks.

Noah looked around the area, finding mostly dead soldiers and a few dead doctors. Most of the bodies weren't armed, lacking any weapon whatsoever. He figured other survivors took them. He was able to find a dead soldier clutching a rifle, taking it as well as a grenade he had on his belt. The area was surprisingly lacking in The Plagued. A few of the undead monstrosities walked aimlessly around.

Noah left the CDC an hour or so later. There was nothing for him there. Anything in the CDC was destroyed, and everything in the area surrounding it was salvaged by others. He looked down at the ground as he walked away, not wanting to be surprised by some monster that was pretending to be dead. He noticed one of The Plagued, a woman, eating a corpse, and went to move around it, but stopped when he recognized the woman.

Noah moved closer to The Plagued One. The Plagued's body was decaying and old, and he instantly recognized her. It was his mother. Her legs were gone, having become a snack to some other Plagued One. She lied there, eating another familiar body. His father. He recognized his father's bald head, and the large scar he had on it. The scar had been from life saving brain surgery he had gotten a decade before; he had a large tumor in his brain, and his mother operated on him, removing the tumor and saving his life.

Noah stared at his mother; she hadn't noticed him yet. He was glad to have seen this. He would have looked for them, but now he didn't have to. He took his new rifle and put it to the back of his mother's head. He pulled the trigger, killing her.

Now he was here, in this run down old house, reading book after book after book. He read all of the medical books twice over, and now he was reading a book about microbial organisms; he hoped to find something that was similar to The Undead Plague in this new book, but once again found nothing.

Noah had studied dozens of The Plagued since the CDC. One bite was all it took to infect a person. The infection would kill them, then reanimate the subject. He couldn't figure it out.

Noah put his book down and sighed. He needed a break. Walking out of the room, he headed for the second floor of the house, going into the first room on his left. He looked at the bag next to the window; it was a solar panel, given to him for his birthday by his parents a few months before The Plague. He used it to power his laptop, which he kept all of his data from his experiment with The Plagued.

He checked the battery level, which neared ninety percent. Noah took his laptop from his bag, plugging it in the panel.

Noah looked outside, enjoying the sight of the tree branches moving in the wind, when something caught his eye. A young Asian woman came out of the forest, supporting a bleeding man, another Asian, perhaps her brother. She struggled to get him to the house, a few of The Plagued following them. One of The Plagued neared the pair, trying to bite the woman's neck.

Noah reached for his rifle, aiming it The Plagued. He fired a shot, killing it. The young woman was surprised by her saviour, looking at where the shot came from. "Get in!" Noah yelled, taking another shot at one of The Plagued. "I'll take care of them!"

He fired his rifle at The Plagued, killing them one by one. He was worried the sound would draw more of them to the house, but knew it was moot by now, since he already took several shots.

Once all of The Plagued were dead, and he didn't see any more coming, Noah headed downstairs, to find the woman and man. He looked in his bedroom, finding the woman trying to stem her companion's bleeding. "Let me help."  
The woman turned around, scared of Noah. She tried talking to him, but she spoke a different language. "Calm down," Noah told her. "I don't understand you."  
"Help," the woman said with difficulty. "Help."  
Noah went to the bleeding man. The man was bleeding heavily from his stomach. Noah cut off the man's shirt, finding the wound. It wasn't a bite. It was a knife wound. Someone stabbed him.

"Listen," Noah said slowly, taking the woman's hands and placing them on the wound. "Keep your hands on the wound. I need to get my bag." He left the woman with the man, her crying breaking his heart. He was losing too much blood too fast, and he was pale from it. Noah found his bag, his father's old doctor bag, and went to the bleeding man.

He did his best to sew up the man's wound, lacking any anesthetic to numb the pain. He looked at the finished product, groaning at the sight; the stitches were chaotic and uneven due to the man's constant thrashing in pain. The worst of the bleeding had stopped, but it flowed.

Noah inspected the unconscious man, making sure he wasn't bit or cut. He didn't want him to become one of The Plagued. Not finding any wounds other than the knife wound, he sighed with relief. He looked at the Asian woman, who cried for her companion.

"Can you speak English?" Noah asked. The woman looked at him. "Anything at all?"  
The woman responded with the same language, only with different words. Whoever she was, she certainly wasn't from here. Noah surmised that she was an illegal immigrant.

Noah stopped her talking. "My name is Noah." He pointed at himself. "Noah," he repeated.  
The woman pointed at him. "Noah," she said. She pointed at herself. "Ming." She then pointed to the man. "Li."  
"Ming. Li. Alright. Listen, you have to leave me with Li, alright?" She looked at him with questioning eyes. Noah grabbed Ming's hand, guiding her out of the room. She fought a little, but relented.  
Noah brought her to the kitchen, sitting her down next to the counter. He opened the cabinets, finding a small box of dry cereal and a bottle of water. He extended them to Ming. "You need food," he told her. "Have these." The Asian woman slowly took the food and water, wary of Noah.

"I'm gonna check on your friend," he told her. "Stay here."  
Noah left the kitchen, leaving Ming to eat. He wasn't sure the man would make, positive he lost too much blood. When he returned to the room he left the man in, he found him standing.

Noah was surprised at this. He didn't expect him to live, let alone be able to stand up. "You shouldn't be up," Noah told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Please, lie down."  
Li looked at Noah's hand, grabbing it with all his strength. Noah ripped his hand away. "That hurt!" he told him. "What's your prob-?"

Noah stopped short when the man turned around. His face pale, his teeth were bared, and his eyes were glazed over. He was one of The Plagued. Li attacked Noah, grabbing him by his throat.

Noah struggled with the man, preventing him from biting him. "Ming!" Noah yelled. "Help!" He heard steps coming from the other room, heading for him.  
Noah struggled harder to keep Li from biting him, the man's face now mere inches from his own. He heard Ming scream upon finding Li and Noah, Li looking up at his former friend. Using his temporary distraction, Noah threw Li to the side.  
Noah ran to grab a scalpel from his doctor's bag, turning around to see Li grabbing at Ming's foot, biting it with his filthy teeth. Noah ran to the man, stabbing him in the head with the scalpel, killing him.

Noah paused to catch his breath. He didn't understand what had happened. He checked the man for bites and scratches, and found nothing. He shouldn't have turned into one of The Plagued. Ming's crying brought him out of his thoughts. She held her bleeding foot; Li had bit into her ankle, tearing the flesh from the bone.

He didn't understand how Li became one of The Plagued. But he did know that if he didn't do something now, then Ming would turn. Noah dragged Ming into the kitchen, away from her dead companion, the woman crying from pain of several different kinds. He then ran to his study, finding his pistol.  
He didn't know if this would work, but it was better than nothing. He reentered the kitchen, the crying Ming seeing him with his gun and becoming more frightened. Noah aimed his pistol at Ming's foot, aiming for the area between the ankle and the knee. Noah had no saw, no axe, nothing to amputate with. All he had was his guns.

He fired a shot into Ming's leg, hitting his spot. He fired again and again, only stopping when the foot separated from the rest of the leg. The Asian woman cried even louder, in more pain than she ever thought she would ever suffer in her life.

Noah exited the room. It had been three hours since he shot off Ming's foot. He had since moved the body of her companion outside, leaving it outside until he could decide what to do with it. Ming was now unconscious, bloody bandages wrapped where her foot once was. A fever had not yet set in, most likely meaning Noah had removed the foot before the infection could set.

The only thing disturbing Noah was Li's turning. He didn't have any bites; he double checked before he threw him outside, and triple checked after he did so. He didn't want to believe it, but he figured out the cause; he was already infected. It wasn't a bite, it wasn't a scratch. It wasn't something The Plagued carried that reanimated people. It was something in the people. The bite merely killed the bitten. You came back no matter how you died.

This theory fit with him, and he accepted it. But one thing eluded him. He thought back his parents. His mother became one of The Plagued, consuming his father's corpse. What he didn't understand was, why didn't his father reanimate?

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_Before you ask, no, there is no cure. Please leave a review._


	4. Jake 2

_I have had Jake and Adam in my head for the past year, and I'm lovin' the both of them.  
_

* * *

**The Walking Dead:**** Survivor Chronicles**

**Jake**

Three months had passed since Jake had killed that man. The thing that frightened him was that it didn't bother him anymore. He wanted to feel guilt for what he did, but he didn't feel anything.

Jake carried a small grocery bag with him the woods. Inside the bag was a dead squirrel, his dinner. Walkers had eaten or scared off most other animals, leaving only the smallest ones alive.

Jake heard a gunshot, drawing his gun at the sound. He ducked to the ground, dropping his bag. Jake could hear someone talking. "Looks like I'm gonna have some fun with you, little fella." He followed the voice, finding a man standing over a bleeding woman. He aimed his gun at the man, firing one shot at him. He hit the man in the shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground.

Jake ran up to the woman, the man screaming from the pain. He looked at the woman, who lay bleeding against a tree, a baby at her crotch. The man screamed some more, and Jake fired one more shot into the man, killing him.  
Jake bent down to inspect the woman. He ripped open his blouse, seeing a gunshot wound in her chest. The bullet was a through and through, tearing through her heart. She was gonna die.

Bushes rustling caught Jake's attention. He looked to his right, seeing several Walkers. The gunshots attracted them. He drew his pistol and fired at the Walkers, killing the ones closest to them. The gun clicked empty after six shots. He swore, then looked back the dying woman.  
Jake looked at the crying infant. Unsheathing his knife, he proceeded to cut the baby's cord, seperating it from it's mother. He noticed it was a baby boy. Jake kept the cord pinched, knowing that if he didn't do so, the baby may bleed out.

Jake took the baby, noticing a baby bag next to the woman. He took the bag and stood up. "Adam!" He looked at the woman. "Adam!"  
Jake looked at the baby, then his mother. "Adam," he repeated, nodding his head. He went to leave, but stopped. He looked at the woman. He couldn't leave her here to die, not like this. He looked at the dead man at his feet; a rifle sat next to his body, the gun the man must have used to shoot the woman.

Jake picked up the rifle. He aimed it at the woman, straight at her head. He fired a shot, killing her.

Jake ran as fast as he could though the forest. The baby, Adam, cried non-stop, attracting Walkers from the whole area. He needed to get somewhere safe. His camp wasn't secure, and with the baby's crying, it would be compromised in minutes. He needed a house. A group. He needed help.

Jake ran through the woods, spotting a large house in the woods. He ran for the house, hoping to find someone inside. He sighed with relief when he came closer to the house; in front of the house were several vehicles, ones with military insignias and designs.  
Jake ran into the house, not noticing the lack of military personel. "Hey!" Jake yelled. "I need some help! I've got a baby!"  
No one answered. Jake noticed the stairs to the second floor were missing, a ladder taking their place. He checked the first room to his left, finding a soldier standing there. "Hey, I need some help! Walkers are coming, I've got a baby here!" The man ignored him. "Hey, you listenin' to me?!"  
Jake walked over to the man, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around. The man's face was pale, his eyes glazed over. He was a Walker! "Shit!"  
The Walker lunged at Jake, forcing him back. Jake ran out of the room, running into even more soldiers, also turned into Walkers. He turned around, heading for the door, intending to run away, but was greeted with dozens of Walkers outside, shambling towards the house.

Jake turned around, trying to think of something. He remembered the ladder, and ran for it, pushing the Walker he grabbed before out of his way. He climbed the ladder, making it to the second floor. He laid the baby down gently on the floor, then went to pull the ladder up.

A Walker tried climbing up the ladder, but Jake shot it with his rifle, killing it. He then pulled the ladder up, the Walkers trying to grab at him, unable to reach him. Jake turned around, to make sure the second floor was clear. He picked up Adam, keeping himself ready in case of attack.

He checked a room on his left, finding an enormous pile of supplies. Gun rested in one corner, scattered in chaos; rifles, assault rifles, pistols, shotguns, even a rocket launcher. Food sat in the center of the room, stacked neatly into a pile; canned goods, dried meats and vegetables, along with several jugs and bottles of water. In another corner lay several bags, filled to the brim with god knew what.

Jake could shook his head, clearing it. He needed to check the rest of the house.

After making sure the second floor was secure, Jake laid the newborn Adam on a bed in another room. The baby was still crying, hungry and afraid. Jake looked through the baby bag he took from the woman, finding several packets of formula mix.  
Jake went to the room with the supplies, still amazed at the sight. He figured the house was a supply depot for the military, or at least the unit that was here. He hoped more of them would arrive, so he could have some help with Adam. Taking a bottle of water from the supply, he left to make Adam a bottle.

Jake stopped where the stairs once were. The military must have destroyed the stairs and placed the ladder there to prevent Walkers from getting upstairs. How the soldiers here died, he didn't know, but he didn't really care. They were dead, and he couldn't change that.

The Walkers were still in the area, most of them still in the house, being attracted by the baby's crying. Jake needed to calm Adam down, before too many Walkers found them. He went to the room he left Adam in, and proceeded to make a bottle for the infant.

Once the bottle was made, he started feeding the baby, who quieted down upon receiving the nipple. Once he ate all of the food, he laid the baby down on the bed, wrapping him up like he should in a blanket that was in the baby bag. Jake left him alone, wanting to check on the supplies. He wanted to know how much he had, how much food, water, guns and ammo he had found.  
He cataloged everything. He had time to kill, after all, might as well spend it doing something useful. He needed to wait until the Walkers downstairs were gone, but with all of the supplies in this house, he could wait a long time.

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_Please remember to leave a review._


	5. Kevin

_I don't own The Walking Dead. I wish I could meet the guy who did though. _

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**The Walking Dead:**** Survivor Chronicles**

**Kevin**

Kevin fired a shot at the Walker, killing it. He stared at it blankly, feeling no remorse or pity for the undead creature. He bent down to pick up the bag it held, looking through it's contents. A bag of chips and bottle of water. Nothing else. He looked back at the corpse, then walked off.

It had been months since he first encountered a Walker. He was a patient in a hospital, King's County, and had escaped with his best and only friend, Nathan, with no help from the military. At first, he thought they were there to protect them, to bring them bring them to a safe place. But Nathan told him otherwise. Nathan always knew what to do.

Kevin walked back to his camp, stepping over the trip wires he made to alert him in case of intruders, whether they were Walkers or people. He saw a short man with thick glasses sitting on a chair, staring at a pot of boiling water. He looked at Kevin.

"You're back," the man said. "I was getting worried."

"You don't have to worry about me, Nathan," Kevin told him. "I can take care of myself."

Nathan pointed to the bag. "What'd you get?"

"Just a bag of chips and a bottle of water." He placed the bag on the dirt. He picked up the boiling water, putting it on the ground. "I told you to take it off the fire after it boiled for five minutes. We need to conserve water, Nathan."

"I was being careful," Nathan told him. "For all I knew, the water was still swimming with bacteria."

"Whatever," Kevin sighed. He opened the bag, taking out the bag of chips. He ripped open the bag, and began eating. He held the bag out to Nathan. He put a hand in the bag, taking a chip.

"Thanks." He threw the chip in his mouth, making low crunching sounds. "How much longer do you think we should stay here?"

Kevin ate another chip. "We'll leave after we bottle the water. There are more Walkers everyday, and even less wildlife. Where do you think I got the bag?"

"Where?" Nathan asked.

"A Walker. Died carrying it, I guess."

The two sat in silence, eating their chips. When the water cooled down, Kevin went to their tent, grabbing the empty bottles they kept for water. He filled each bottle to the brim with the purified water, then proceeded to pack up their camp.

After packing up the camp, bagging the water bottles and folding up the tent, the two left, to find another place to stay. "We should look for a house," Kevin said. "It'll be easier to defend than a camp."

"Lots of people are looking for houses," Nathan told him. "We're probably gonna encounter people. Bad people."

"You don't know that," Kevin told him. "Why are you always so paranoid?"

"Have I been wrong yet?"

Kevin looked down at his question. He was right. Nathan's never been wrong, and he doubted he would be wrong now.

* * *

Kevin looked back at Nathan; he didn't seem bothered by the weight of the bags he was carrying. Kevin on the other hand was struggling to carry his load. They split the weight, but he always felt like he was carrying everything. It wasn't fair.

Kevin and Nathan walked out of the woods, finding a road. They had decided not to stay in the woods, not with the increasing amount of Walkers. The two walked on the road, hoping to come across a car. They saw only ruined cars, some stripped for parts, other crashed and destroyed.

"My back's starting to hurt," Kevin groaned. "How can you carry all that stuff?"

"I don't know," Nathan laughed. "Just can, I guess."

The two of them continued walking. Kevin stopped when he noticed a building off in the distance. "You see that?" He pointed to the building. "Might be a gas station."

"We should hurry," Nathan told him, looking at the lowering sun. "Night's coming, and I don't wanna spend another night outside."

The two of them hurried to the building, finding that it was indeed a gas station. Kevin checked the area around the station, finding no Walkers or traps. He put a finger on his lips, to tell Nathan to keep quiet. He opened the door slowly, keeping his ears sharp.

The two of them entered the station, leaving their bags at the entrance. Kevin pointed at Nathan, then pointed at a door. Nathan nodded, and went to the door. Kevin went to another door, looking through the window. He opened the door, holding his knife in case of attack. He looked around the room, making sure it was empty. He found nothing.

He left the room, going back to Nathan. He found the door he was standing near closed, Nathan gone. "_Nathan?_" Kevin whispered. "_Where are you?"_

Kevin walked slowly to the door. Did Nathan go inside? Why would he close the door? Kevin turned the knob, slowly opening the door. He peeked inside, finding two people, a man and a woman, on a bed, sleeping. He entered the room, careful to not disturb the couple.

"Hey," Kevin said loudly. The two didn't move. "You alive?"

The man opened his eyes slowly, then jumped at the sight of Kevin. Kevin saw that the man was Asian. "Relax," Kevin told him. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

The man gently shook the woman, who was also Asian, waking her up as well. The two of them were fully clothed, both of them covered in dirt and grime.

The man spoke slowly, but in a different language. "I don't understand," Kevin told him. "Speak english."

"What are you doing?" a voice asked. Kevin looked behind him to find Nathan, looking at him. "Kill them."

"What?!" Kevin asked. "Are you insane?! Why?!"

"Because they're dangerous! We don't know them! They could be cannibals for we know!"

"Are you hearing yourself?" Kevin asked. "Cannibals? Really?"  
Kevin heard the woman speaking, and looked back at the couple. The woman looked afraid, as if not understanding what was happening. "Just calm down," he told her. "We're not gonna hurt you."

"KILL THEM!" Nathan yelled. "NOW!"

Kevin looked back at Nathan. "I told you, n-" he was cut off as he felt someone tackle him. He looked at the Asian man, who tried to grab the knife from his hand.

"I told you!" Nathan yelled. "Kill them!"

Kevin wrestled with the man, hearing the woman scream. "Help!" he yelled. He looked at Nathan, but found him gone. Did he leave him?

Kevin pushed the Asian man off, throwing him into the bed. Kevin ran outside, looking for Nathan. "Nathan!" No answer. "Nathan!"

Kevin felt someone tackle him. It was the Asian man. He grabbed at his knife, trying to take it from him. Kevin got out of his hold, and stabbed the man in the chest, pushing him backward. The woman exited the station, screaming at the sight of her bleeding companion.

The woman went to the man, helping his stand up. She looked at Kevin, still holding the bloody knife, and cried for her life. She led the man away Kevin, away from the station, leaving Kevin alone.

Kevin went back in the station, looking for Nathan. "Why didn't you just kill them?" He looked behind, finding Nathan in the doorway. "If you had done like I told you, that wouldn't have happened."

"You screaming at me to kill them is what made that guy attack me!" Kevin yelled. "This is your fault!"

Kevin and Nathan stared at each other in silence.

* * *

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